Specter in Dark
by Homogenic
Summary: Draco Malfoy is given a mission by Lord Voldemort during his seventh year at Hogwarts.


**Title**: Specter in the Dark  
**Author**: Homogenic  
**Rating**: R  
**Warnings**: War violence, disturbing images, multiple character deaths, strong language, minor slash femmeslash, and sexual situations  
**Pairing**: Severus/Harry and maybe some other minor pairings but I doubt it would matter  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter   
**Betas**: Yami27, Orenji Kaniku, and Liger  
  
**_Chapter One_**  
  
_"In my home, a night nearer death,  
I wake with no shield on my breastbone,  
Breathing deep through my sides like an insect,  
My closed hand fallng and rising,  
Where it lies like the dead on my heart."_ -James Dickey, Armor (1963)  
  
----------------------------------------------  
  
"Draco Malfoy."  
  
The seventeen-year-old stood from his seat beside his father and bowed respectfully. "My Lord."   
  
"You're a Slytherin at Hogwarts, am I correct?"  
  
Draco couldn't see Lord Voldemort behind the shadows of where he sat; all that was in view that really didn't matter were the shiny shoes of his feet which were crossed and wriggling with what could have been boredom or irritability.  
  
"Yes, you are correct, Lord."   
  
"I've been thinking," Draco watched the silhouette crack his knuckles and shift in his seat. "Draco. . . being a Malfoy and your father's son. I would like you to be in command of a mission."   
  
Lucius Malfoy knew better than to stand up and speak against Lord Voldemort's command, so he watched his son's gaze stray nowhere other than the Dark Lord; to do otherwise was extremely disrespectful and considered very offensive. He feared for his son. He didn't want Draco to take command of anything   
  
"Yes Sir. May I inquire as to the nature of this mission?" As a child, Draco was especially well known for his poker face but Lucius knew he was nervous now. His wife next to him began to chew on her bottom lip. Lucius would have taken her hand if they were anywhere else but here.   
  
Anywhere else but the Riddle house in Little Hangleton. Meetings had been moved there because the Death Eaters were losing too many soldiers to the light side. This was the only place no one had ever dared to look. Even if they suspected any dark activity, they wouldn't come. Maybe Albus Dumbledore would, but the man was a fool. Lucius was yanked from this thoughts when Voldemort began talking to his son.  
  
"I want you to set up a squad to get into Hogwarts and destroy everything you can. I want them weakened, Draco. The only way to get to the Light side, to crush them, is through their children. Get the children and we've won the war. Can you do this?"  
  
It was worded as a question, but everyone in the room knew it was a command. Draco knew it was a command. He nodded without taking his eyes off of where he suspected the Dark Lord's face might have been. "Yes, My Lord."   
  
"Good," Lord Voldemort clapped his hands in childish glee. "Good, that's exactly what I want to hear. Choose your squad and be out. You have the rest of your Christmas break. . . a week and one-half, yes?"   
  
"Yes," Draco confirmed, wanting to scratch the itch behind his ear.   
  
"Good. You have that long to pick your squad; give me the list of names. I don't care how big or small, as long as you get the job done. If you can, bring me Potter. I don't care if he's harmed; I just want him alive."   
  
"Yes, My Lord." It was getting stronger. His fingers curled at his sides in an attempt to keep his cool.  
  
"Meeting adjourned!" Voldemort barked. Draco sighed and itched his ear. The snaked curled around his neck hissed and glared at the retreating Death Eaters. Voldemort slid his hand over its smooth scales, closing his eyes and imagining the touch of the young Weasley girl he had only four years ago writhing in his hands. Warm flesh, he hadn't had warm flesh in so long. He'd have to wait only a little bit longer to fulfill his needs.   
  
The Malfoys left quietly. They didn't say a word to each other until they Flooed home.

-----  
  
Narcissa sank into the couch and rubbed her tired eyes. "Draco. . ."  
  
"Yeah Mum?" Draco turned into the family room after cleaning himself off.  
  
She stared at her son. Everyone said he looked like Lucius but the only thing she could see similar between the two were the same slate grey eyes, strong jaw, and long white-blonde hair. The point of his chin, small frame, and spirit belonged to her. Everything other than those eyes and long hair screamed Narcissa's name. They made a beautiful child after many tries. The children had kept dying in her womb. Children were supposed to thrive inside their mothers.   
  
"Mum, what's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing, I'm thinking." She gave a weak smile. What she really wanted was to ask was, 'Are you scared?', but she knew he would say, 'No.'  
  
She would have.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Lucius asked from the doorway. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the polished wood frame.  
  
Draco answered him without turning around, "Exactly what Lord Voldemort told me to. That's why I have this. . . this _thing_ on my arm, isn't it? To stay alive?" Draco could feel the Dark Mark on his arm. When he first got it, he felt the need to look at it every minute. He actually thought it was kind of pretty. Now, he thought it was a parasite. He could feel it beneath his robes now. He knew it would always be there.   
  
Forever.  
  
"Draco, we just want what's best for you." Narcissa whispered, her long thin fingers fumbled with the long dark blonde strands of her hair.   
  
"And you think killing kids my own age and younger, IN MY OWN SCHOOL, is what's best for me?" Draco desperately wanted to wrap his arms around himself, but he wouldn't show them just how scared he was. He yelled at them all the time. He kept trying to tell himself this was no different from an everyday conversation.  
  
"No." Lucius answered before his wife could defend Voldemort. His Liege had gone too far with picking his seventeen-year-old son for this. His only seventeen-year-old son. He made Draco accept the ways of the Death Eaters so that he could stay safe. He wanted Draco to stay alive.  
  
His wife and son stared at him. A pair of slate matching his own eyes and a pair of swimming jade each with expressions of disbelief; Lucius suspected they were probably for completely differentreasons. "No," Lucius repeated. "It's not what's best for you in the reality that you are having to do something like this. But you are going to make a family and live the rest of your life, Draco. You'll have to do this, I'm sorry. I'm going to help you. We've got a week and one-half left before you leave for school. That's a week and one-half before you have to carry out this mission. We'll go over names and if you'll permit, I'd like to be on your squad."  
  
For a moment, Lucius thought he saw relief wash through Draco's face before it disappeared he merely nodded. "Yes sir."

-----  
  
"I want the Lestrange's for sure," Draco said chewing on the end of his quill. He hadn't really wanted them but their style was something that he would need; they were relentlessly sadistic. He paced the study as his father went through files and records given to him from Lord Voldemort himself.   
  
"Rodolphus, Bellatrix, and Rabastan. . ." Lucius muttered as he scribbled the first three names on the parchment. "Lucius. . . Malfoy," Draco turned and looked at his father who only shrugged and handed his son another file. "Here, look through these names."  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow and asked critically, "Dag Dafyyd?"  
  
Lucius smiled and nodded. "Dag is Norwegian for 'day'. He's a thirty-year old in a town near London I think. He's a very good strategist. Ex-Auror. He has a very feminine name if I do say so myself."  
  
Draco grinned and nodded. "I want him too."   
  
"You're at one, two, three, four, five. . . and six if you include yourself. Do you want this many on your squad Draco?"  
  
The younger Malfoy flung himself into his chair and sighed wearily. They'd working on this for the past two days. "Is that bad? Is that too many? Should I cut someone?" He honestly didn't know what he was doing. If it weren't for his father he would be picking people out of a hat. It was what he'd originally intended on doing but his father reminded him that this was a very serious thing that he was doing. Draco hadn't been able to eat or sleep with all the stress this mission demanded. Everything had to be perfect or it would make Lord Voldemort boiling mad. He might die if he made Lord Volemort mad; everyone else who did had.   
  
Lucius watched his son stare at the marble floor. His eyes were bloodshot. Sometimes he heard the boy pacing in his room at night when Narcissa had her nightmares of screaming children ripping their ways outside of her body. She said they looked deformed and mutated. A lot of his nights were spent holding this woman he'd married so many years ago. They were completely different people back then, young and naive. They believed joining Lord Voldemort would be the best thing for their unborn child; the unborn child that would die in Narcissa's womb a month and a half later. They would get the protection they needed and most definitely power. Power was the most important thing of all if a Malfoy could help it.   
  
"Draco, I think this team is fine."  
  
"You do? Good." Draco sighed and got up. "I'll start working on the owls to send them to the Lestrange's and Mr. Dafyyd."  
  
Lucius shook his head and grabbed a new bottle of ink from the drawer and opened it. "You have to get your school things in order. You'll be leaving in a few days. You have homework and I want you to get some rest."   
  
Draco nodded and left the room without another word between the two. The last week and one-half had been very stressful, uncharacteristic, and surreal in the Malfoy Manor. Lucius wasn't so sure it was a bad thing. People thought he and his wife abused Draco. They also thought Draco was just another wealthy prat who didn't have self-discipline, compassion, and morality when he really was brought up to grasp those principles.   
  
Life just dealt them a very bad hand. Lucius, like any father, was doing everything he could to keep his family safe. What else could he do other than help his son with a mission that could very well end in their deaths? If he went down, he would take anyone else he could who didn't bear the Dark Mark with him. If anyone touched his son, they'd be given a fate worse than death that he would happily dish out. He'd be sure to note that on all of the squad's letters.

-----  
  
_December 27, 1997  
  
As followers of the Dark Lord, your duty will best be served in a squad lead by Mr. Draco Malfoy. You are all to meet at the Malfoy Manor the eve of his departure for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mr. Draco Malfoy's team will be organized as stated:  
  
Bellatrix Black Lestrange- Primary Offensive Witch  
Lucius Malfoy- Primary Defensive Wizard  
Rodolphus Lestrange- Secondary Offensive Wizard  
Rabastan Lestrange- Secondary Defensive Wizard  
Draco Malfoy- Undercover Offensive Wizard and Captain  
Dag Dafyyd- Strategist and Defensive Wizard  
  
As your duties are clearly stated above, you are also to be notified that any danger inflicted upon Mr. Draco Malfoy, the aggressor will be given a fate worse than death. This will be issued by myself, or if fate has drawn my card, you will be left with the task of making sure they suffer more than humanly possible.  
_  
_We expect to see you promptly at six.   
  
Winter Wishes,  
Lucius Malfoy_

_-----_  
  
The remaining days went by fast for Draco. His schoolwork had barley been finished by the time there was a loud POP!, and eager voices were murmuring to each other. Lucius and Narcissa greeted their guests with smiles and handshakes. Draco took a deep breath and met his senior team in the drawing room where tea and biscuits had been set up.   
  
Draco knew the Lestrange's because they were family. He hated his aunt though; he thought her very rude and arrogant, but she was sadistic and an asset to what he would be needing her for. Whoever said, 'You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family.' was most terribly right. Draco hoped she would die during this little mission. He didn't feel bad at all for thinking it either.   
  
Dag Dafyyd was tall and very skinny with bags under his eyes that were hidden behind big black glasses. Draco had the feeling that he was teased as a child in school. He resisted the urge to tease him now. What he though peculiar about this thirty-year old man was that he had stretched his ear holes so big around that he could have fit three fingers inside them, had Dag taken the polished red stones out. Draco didn't ask him to.   
  
They set immediately to work.   
  
"I'm going to be used as reconnaissance. There are a bunch of hidden passages all over the school. You all have graduated from Hogwarts and were young teenagers, what passages do you have for me?" Draco asked setting down on his favorite armchair, away from his aunt.   
  
Rodolphus glared at his teacup and said, "There's a great deal coming from Hogsmeade to the school. There's one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy and the statue of the hump-backed witch if I'm not mistaken."  
  
"One is caved in," Rabastan added, his black curly hair stuck out at all angles. To Draco, he looked as if he'd had a potion explode in his face.   
  
"I need to know valid secret passages, Mr. Lestrange." Draco said without looking up from his instructions, and without looking up he knew that the man's dark face was tinted pink with embarrassment. "Anyone else?"  
  
No one answered.  
  
"So we have the two statues and Honeydukes Sweetshop? Mr. Dafyyd, since this is such a delicate mission I need you to give me the best you have."   
  
The quiet man nodded and crossed his legs at the ankles. "With the map of Hogwarts that Lucius has owled to me, our best bet is to use an invisibility spell and take them by guerilla tactics. The teachers are a more difficult target because they are more educated and can defend themselves and the students. Lord Voldemort wants Harry Potter. I suggest, if I may be so bold in doing so," Draco nodded. "That the Slytherin House manage to get Potter while a pair of defensive and offensive wizards, or witch," Bellatrix smiled. "Keep Mr. Malfoy safe. After we have Potter and the deaths of a few Hogwarts students. There is no doubt that a war will be blind with rage and sorrow. They're bound to get careless."   
  
Draco hated seeing the light on this man's face. He hated being in charge of this. He felt sick to his stomach. "Fine." Dag's malicious grin grew wider and he began to pop his knuckles. Draco gave his father a look that clearly said, 'Where the hell did you get this bloke?' Lucius pretended he didn't see him and stood.   
  
"So our little squad will strike but once, because that is all that we are allowed. We're going to get this right. Mr. Malfoy will have two weeks to give us the recon report and his inside information which will be forwarded to Lord Voldemort. The information will be weighed, and then we will make the attack. Not only will our team be attacking, but a Death Eater company will be involved as well. The Dark Lord has taken it to himself to chose those in that company, Mr. Malfoy will not be needed after this mission has ended."  
  
"I have connections in my House. I have two reliable if not somewhat thick young men on my side. . ."  
  
"He means Crabbe and Goyle's boys." Lucius supplied in response to Dag's blank face.   
  
"We can find out as much as we can. Possibly act as a diversion." Draco shrugged. He didn't know why he wasn't giving this more effort. He didn't want his responsibilities to think it was because he was seventeen. He had an idea of what he wanted to do but he didn't want to do this thing in the first place. He knew Death Eaters that would have jumped with joy had they been given a mission personally by Lord Voldemort himself. "You know what you need to do. I suggest you work on your respective roles. If you're out of practice," He eyed the Lestrange's and Dafyyd. "Get in practice. I'll be sending my owl to you as the deadline grows closer." He stood up and made his way out of the room. He didn't turn his head when he said, "Meeting adjourned."   
  
As he turned the corner and began walking through the corridor he heard his father say indignantly, "He's had a lot of his mind."

-----  
  
Draco was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He knew it was late and that he would pay for it in the morning when he had to wake up in order to catch the train. It left at eleven but on normal days he would wake up at nine, have breakfast, and his small family would be on their merry way. His foot itched and he tried to ignore it.   
  
How many kids would die by his hand. How many more by his command? What did it matter?  
  
He wished he were half as apathetic as the other students said he was. Pansy Parkinson treated him like he was her son. She loved him. They all loved him. Draco Malfoy was chief in the Slytherin House. Everything he did, they worshipped. At first, yes, it amused him and he loved it. Lately, he just wanted to be left alone.   
  
Now he was alone in his bed with a weight on his chest squeezing every breath from his body with visions of what he was going to have to do running through his mind. The one time he was alone, he wanted nothing more than to be in someone's arms. Pansy, where was Pansy when you needed her? Just like her not to be around when he actually wanted her to hug him and play with his long hair. She loved to brush it and he enjoyed the sensation of the bristles against his scalp, sometimes causing little shivers of pleasure to course down his spine.  
  
He put his hands on his chest and watched them rise and fall with each breath he took and gave back. He knew he would drive himself mad if he kept thinking of his fellow students at Hogwarts. He finally growled, sat up, and itched the aggravating spot in the middle of his foot. It grew worse before it got better and he sighed heavily with relief and weariness and he flopped back on his back.  
  
Draco laid in bed thinking of how lonely he was until he fell asleep at seven. He remembered thinking, _If I fall asleep, it'll bring this death to me faster. Stay awake._

-------  
  
_**To Be Continued. . . .**_


End file.
